UNTITLED
by RantWaitingToHappen
Summary: AU Tony works for the CIA as an undercover operative and is 19 years old; Gibbs is still top dog at NCIS. A peculiar case brings them together and they must work undercover as father and son to stop a large group of murderers and kidnappers. H/C R&R
1. Chapter 1

**A.N.** I know, I know, another one? I can't help myself. D: BUT! I swear I'm still going to update the other fics too now that I'm back (I was gone for a while...) and have NOT given up on any of them! Anyhow, I suck when it comes to writing case fics but I tried my best, so please don't pick at all the faults ._.; this is AU, but pretty much with the same characters and story line. Enjoy!

**I.**

Gibbs was less than pleased. From Washington to New York, his team, Duck and Abby included, were suddenly transferred over to a new case, having handed over the one they'd been working on to the next best team on call.

Director Morrow had been curiously discreet about the entire affair. He'd taken them off their current case, told them their belongings had been packed already, and that a car with a driver awaited them downstairs to take them to a new location.

Several hours later, in a large conference room, in a ritzy hotel in downtown New York, Gibbs and his team were none the wiser.

It was only upon seeing Fornell and two of his lackeys arrive, that some of the tension left the ex-marines shoulders. He'd damn well get answers from the seasoned FBI agent, for sure.

Kate and McGee were at his side instantaneously. "Explanation, now." Was Gibbs' blunt demand.

Fornell forced a grin. "It's nice to see you too Agent Gibbs." Seeing that the NCIS agent wasn't in the mood for pleasantries, he withdrew his hand. "I'm not sure about the details either, except that this is supposed to be joint case between the FBI, NCIS, and the CIA."

"That's kind of awesome." Abby, NCIS' resident Goth and lab rat, popped up in the conversation, twirling her pigtails. "I mean, we've never really worked with the FBI before—you guys are always trying to snatch our cases away—" she accused candidly. "And we've certainly never dealt with Central Intel.—I don't think anyone really has, those fella's are super secretive." She awed, Ducky beside her, nodding along in agreement.

"To think this case falls under so many jurisdictions." The elderly doctor thought aloud.

Gibbs frowned, deep in thought now. This was clearly bigger than he'd anticipated it to be. CIA wasn't exactly known for interacting with other agencies, and NCIS admittedly didn't have a great working rep when it came to fraternizing with the FBI.

Swiftly, the doors of the conference room swung open again, and this time a tall, dark woman, with dazzling stilettos and a sharp pencil skirt, strolled in, her every step oozing confidence and "in charge". She looked to be someone who demanded and emanated respect. Behind her, trailed a youth in a dark, too-big hoody, and a pale red scarf. His face was obscured by these things, and his strut was far more subdued than that of his taller and curvier companions'. Finally, a woman of Philippine decent, wearing sweats, her long hair tied into a loose braid, strode in behind the pair.

Once everyone was seated, the African American woman spoke. "I am the CIA Director, Penelope Elsinore, and I want to thank both the FBI and NCIS teams for gathering here today, but let's cut right to the chase, shall we?"

She was no red-head, but Gibbs thought he might like this woman. He wasn't the kind of man who liked to go through formalities, after all—clearly, neither did she.

"There have been four murders so far." Penelope began, as a large, plasma screen lit up behind her, and the lights were turned off by the Philippine woman to her left. A picture appeared, a superficially tanned girl, with dazzling blue eyes, and lightly scattered freckles popped up. "Stacy Finn, age 21, a model for the Victoria Secret catalogue." Another photograph; a young man with a strong jaw and dark eyes and coarse hair stared back at the two agencies. "Gerald Greene, age 19, just recently joined the US Army."

A doe eyed boy with large hazel eyes and golden blonde hair. "Quinn Orson, age 20, student in a liberal arts college." Finally, a photo of a gleeful looking female with long nearly black strands of hair over her broad shoulders appeared on the screen. "Jaycee Ortiz, age 18, a senior in high school."

Then of course came the gruesome photographs of their corpses. "At first, it was hard to find a connection between the four individuals, except that they were all of a similar age range. However, upon looking into the victims, we found that at least one of their guardians is in the special force marines. This is of course where NCIS jurisdiction comes in. The connection between the victims means a serial killer, in which case, the FBI is charged with jurisdiction."

"And why was the CIA involved in the murders of these particular New Yorkers in the first place?" Gibbs inquired, upon looking at the files the Philippine woman had passed around the conference table as soon as her superior had started speaking. The only real connections were the state in which the victims had been murdered, their ages, and their parents' professions. Gibbs was already working several plausible ideas in his head.

"Good question," Director Elsinore praised very briefly, her face serious, "As of six months ago a group that goes by the name of 'The Rebellion', popped up our radar. They were deemed none threatening at the time. They had a site up online about the unfairness of the government, the uselessness of the war, etcetera, and etcetera. Looking into it, Interpol realized a lot of their posts were intersecting with current news on police investigations, looking for missing persons. It was nothing concrete, a gut instinct, if you will, but we followed up on 'The Rebellion'. Posts like: "They will pay with the lives of their offspring" and "This country is in the palm of our hands, we have your youths" became a common theme within the website and they even started gaining more 'followers' and support online, despite the vagueness of their 'work' to rid America of its' hypocrisy—according to this group, that is their plight."

"What do the missing people have to do with the group and the four victims?" Fornell asked, leaning forward on his elbows.

"Each victim was found within months of one another. But in between these months, other youths began disappearing. A lot of them were not reported immediately by their parents due to a majority of them attending college, and all of them have parents in the Corps as well, we discovered. We sent some of our people to speak to the friends and families of the missing people and related the dates of their individual disappearances to a date of a particular post on the site, only to find out that they only post on the specific day that a person was said to have gone missing."

Abby was listening intently to the commanding woman, her curiosity eating at her.

"A few measly posts on the Internet, however, are not adequate enough evidence to convict 'The Rebellion'. Not only this, but we have no real idea who's behind the website. We need the FBI to work a concise and articulate profile of our kidnappers, predict their next move, and try to figure out why it is exactly that they're doing what they're doing—if it is in fact them—because I don't buy any of their 'against the government' bull crap, frankly. You'll be in charge of that, Agent Fornell." Elsinores' mouth was drawn into a thin line, her shoulders tense. "NCIS is here to investigate the parents of our four victims and the missing persons—it obviously has something to do with the Navy and we need you to get to the bottom of it. Agent McGee and forensic lab tech Miss Scutio will be working alongside one of our own in figuring out the identity of the face behind 'The Rebellion', online. Agent Todd and Agent Burk," she addressed Kate and one of the FBI agents next to Fornell. "You two will begin to sift through military based motives—as a profiler, Agent Todd should be of use to you."

"Agent Gibbs, you will be going undercover, alongside my own agent, in order to get 'The Rebellion' to come out of hiding."

"How's that?" Gibbs arched a brow.

Elsinore sighed. "As of two months ago, no more missing persons have been reported, no corpses found—we've come to a dead-end. In New York, that is. It seems the group has moved their operation to Arizona, Phoenix. And they've changed their M.O. They went from kidnapping the sons and daughters of marines, to kidnapping both parent and child."

"What kind of persona would the Boss man play, though, that would get the group to come out of hiding?" Abby questioned, concern evident in her tone, not liking the idea of Gibbs having to go undercover.

"There's a father son retreat in Phoenix, for outdoors type people, in specific. We have strong reason to believe they have an inside man at the Lodge where the retreat is held every month—it's a month long gig—last month on the retreat, an ex-marine and his son went missing on the trail. We'd need Agent Gibbs—who is already an ex-gunnery, to pose as the father in this scenario—my agent will pose as the son, and with hope, you two can draw one of the group members out."

"Says here the retreat is held every month on the 5th, that's a couple of days away, why can't we go in then? Why next month?" Gibbs asked in his _'I demand a reasonable answer'_ tone.

Elsinore sighed again, long and profound. "Four months ago we sent two agents to play those same roles, but as father and son enrolling in college; the agents were unfamiliar with one another and had trouble making the relationship of parent and child seem effortless and subtle. The whole thing blew up in our faces. Both agents were shot in their motel near the liberal arts college in Manhattan, the word 'FAKES' scrawled on the walls with their blood." She grimaced and swallowed hard the lump in her throat, just thinking about it. "I need you and my agent to build a rapport, make the relationship seem as real as possible—no slips of the tongue, it's 'Dad this' 'sport that'—I do _not_ need a repeat of last time. I will not send an agent unprepared into the field again. You two have one month to create this relationship—if I am not convinced by the end of this month that you two can pull this op off, it will be aborted." The director was still clearly shaken by the deaths of her two agents. "We've already rented an apartment in Arizona, for you two to get settled and start getting into character, Agent Gibbs. You and my agent will be boarding a plane in a couple of hours. The chauffer is waiting downstairs. My agent has instructions once you've both reached your destination." She looked to Gibbs for approval.

Jethro nodded dutifully, and she continued.

"Right then, we'll all be communicating through webcam, so laptops have been provided for each of you. For the remainder of the case, Agents Fornell, Burke, Riesa, Todd, McGee, and of course Mrs. Scutio and Dr. Mallard, will be staying here at the Grand Hotel. My assistant Elizabeth here will lead you all to your rooms; you've all been given the files—study, breathe, and go over them like mad. Now, this meeting is dismissed. Thank you all for your cooperation on this case." With those words, the woman left.

The Philippine woman, Elizabeth, was apparently born in the UK, if her English accent was any indication. "Right then." She smiled pleasantly at the large group of armed strangers in her midst. "Agent Gibbs, if you would follow our agent, and your partner for the rest of this case downstairs, your driver awaits you in the main lobby."

The shrouded figure, the person who hadn't said a word nor moved during the entire presentation, now stepped up, his face still covered by the large scarf around his neck and the hood over his head. "Let's go then." He gestured very faintly for the older man to follow him, and Gibbs did just that, mouthing over his shoulder to his startled team 'Call you when I get there.'

In the limo—Gibbs couldn't for the life of him figure out why it had to be a damn limo—they sat in silence for a moment, while the car started up.

"Agent Gibbs." Jethro introduced himself bluntly, and turned, facing the smaller agent whom he would be working with for what seemed would be the next month or so.

The agent started for a second, and blinked blearily at the ex marine. From this close up, Gibbs noted the guys' startlingly lavender green eyes. The agent pulled down his hood, at least, so Gibbs could see him better; he was just a kid, if the ex marine had anything to say about it. He was very young and handsome even, despite the bags of what had to be days of insomnia underneath his eyes. "Anthony DiNozzo." The youth said, his voice raspy, as if he were trying to adjust to speaking after a long period of not having done so. "I'm usually the bell of the ball, I swear," he smiled very dimly, "but it's been a while since I've seen people…or slept, really, so excuse my social mannerisms for the time being, yeah?" he cleared his throat. "You can call me Tony—or, well, you'll have to, if we're going to pull off this father son thing. Let's start by familiarizing ourselves intimately, 'kay?"

Before Gibbs could ask what the hell that meant, Tony unbuckled his seat belt, laid his legs and torso across the stretched limo seat, and rested his head against the older agents' firm lap. "Wake me when we get there." He yawned, already slipping into a deep slumber.


	2. Chapter 2

**II. **

**February 2nd, Thursday:**

"Ooh, he is adorable!" Abby cooed.

Kate chuckled. "If we were in high school, maybe."

Gibbs managed a faint smirk. He turned the webcam on his new Mac PC over to face in his general direction and spared the sleeping agent on the lumpy red couch a glance, before turning back around. "McGee."

"Background check, right Boss, umm, well, I couldn't exactly find much." The Probie stuttered in response. His face now filled the laptop screen. "His name is Anthony DiNozzo, he will be twenty in six months, and umm, that's it…"

Gibbs glared at the screen for a moment. "That's it?" he asked skeptically.

"Y-yes sir—Boss, I mean. The CIA has pretty much either secured all of his information or erased it, he has no paper trail—he's practically a ghost." McGee squeaked out. He was still new to the team and no matter what Abby said, he didn't think he'd ever get used to Gibbs' direct glare—even through webcam.

Abby sat next to McGee, her pig-tails bouncing. "I helped look, and there's pretty much squat on this guy, Bossman. Everything we did manage to get our hands on was censored paperwork. I'm surprised we even got the guys' name and age." She complained.

Gibbs sighed. "Right. Kate," he called.

She showed up on the screen next to Abby, "Boss."

"As senior field agent, you're in charge. I expect updates. Make sure you collaborate with Fornell and his guys on this one." He ordered.

"Got it Gibbs." She responded, just as he closed the laptop.

Tony had remained asleep for the majority of their trip. Two hours in the car, he'd used his lap as a pillow, and then five whole hours on a plane, he'd used his shoulder as a headrest. After reaching their tiny apartment in the city, Gibbs had started unpacking his things, only to come to the living room and find his roommate for the next month passed out on the couch. That had been four hours ago.

"Kid sleeps like a rock…" Gibbs muttered under his breath, and then set off to bed. Jet lag was hell.

**February 3rd, Friday:**

Gibbs woke the next morning to the tantalizing aroma of caffeine and pancakes.

"Morning," he offered, as he walked into the dining room.

Tony was busy setting several plates in the middle of the round table. "Sit down, eat; I'm a decent cook."

Gibbs did just that, piling his plate with sausage links, an omelet, a stack of pancakes, and filling his stomach with coffee. "This is good." He commented, chewing with a gusto.

Tony smiled and headed for the fridge, which was surprisingly stocked with a few essentials, and took out a bottle of spring water.

"Not eating?"

"Food makes me puke." Tony replied flippantly.

Gibbs arched a brow.

"I'm not bulimic, agent Gibbs," he assured the older man. "I haven't eaten anything solid in the last two weeks. If I started wolfing down everything in sight now it would only make me sick. Doctor said so. I drank some broth earlier after making a quick pit stop at a 24 hour convenience store." He explained, sipping the water at a slow pace.

Gibbs nodded and continued to eat his breakfast, occasionally glancing up at the CIA agent, whose lean frame sat against the kitchen counter. Usually Gibbs was great with silence; in fact, he was the one who initiated long, uncomfortable silences, but it was odd that it was the other way around for once. "You've been to Phoenix before?" he asked. The kid had seemed to know his way around the place when they'd first arrived at the air port.

"No; we had an agent canvass the area out before deciding on a location. There should be a packet in my backpack with all the info and directions to all the market places, restaurants, parks, theatres, malls, local shopping districts, and gyms within a 20 mile radius of the apartment." Tony let him know, reaching into his bag in the meanwhile and taking out a red plastic packet. He handed it to Gibbs, who'd just finished breakfast and was now finishing off his second cup of coffee.

Gibbs took it with a grunt that Tony discerned was supposed to mean 'Thanks' and rifled through it. "We have gym memberships?" he arched a curious brow.

The younger man nodded. "It's a mens' only gym in town. It's mostly a father son type place-it's called The Wes & Wes Fitness Club. It's owned by father Harold Wes and son Junior Wes. They're the men in charge of the Lodge Penny mentioned; they've held the retreat every month for the last five years without fail." Tony went on, "People getting lost or even reports of fatal accidents at the trail up there aren't actually too uncommon, so no one made a huge fuss over the missing marine and his son last month."

Gibbs made another grunt noise and continued to skim through the red packet.

It wasn't until noon when Gibbs decided to break the silence that had proceeded after breakfast. He'd been busy phoning his team back in DC, and going through the case files, while the CIA agent had amused himself for the last several hours with daytime television. Apparently they had cable. Gibbs knew Kate would probably be incredibly jealous of the luxuries the CIA could afford for their ops, compared to the cramped motel rooms and military aircrafts NCIS often provided them on cases. Gibbs didn't really care for comfort, so long as the job was done right.

"Tell me about yourself." the sentence felt extremely off coming out of the ex gunnerys' mouth, but Gibbs was determined to go through with this undercover operation, and if the only obstacle keeping him from doing so was not knowing a lick of information about the kid, then he was going to fix that, and soon.

Tony blinked up at him from his seat on the couch in front of the T.V. "I'm a Gemini, my favorite food is spaghetti, I like long walks on the beach at sunset-"

Gibbs glared at the agent. "Cut the crap kid, you know what I meant."

The agent actually had the balls to grin at the ex-marine, despite the glare aimed his way-a glare which, as Abby liked to say 'shook even the toughest of criminals to their core'. "I know, I know. Just thought I could try to get a smile out of my tough marine dad." he said, flippantly.

Gibbs nearly smirked at that. "Scooch over." he motioned, as he sat on the couch next to Tony.

"Do you have any family?" Tony wondered out loud.

Gibbs tried not to stiffen at the question. "No." he replied, straight-faced.

Tony nodded. "Your turn."

Gibbs' brows furrowed. "What's that?" he asked.

"20 questions. It's a game. Well, usually it's for love struck teens who wanna' get to know each other, but I think this is fine too, considering." he explained. "It's your turn."

"Alright," Gibbs would play at their little game and hopefully gain some knowledge about his new undercover partner. "How the hell'd you end up working for the CIA?"

Tony tutted. "Agent Gibbs, you should know by now that asking things like that isn't going to get you anywhere. That's classified."

Gibbs shrugged. At least he'd tried. He went on to ask something else when Tony stopped him.

"Nope, my turn. You wasted a turn." Tony grinned.

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Go for it kid."

"Have you ever seen this movie, "Funny Game"? It came out in 2007—it was a remake of the original, which was filmed in Germany, equally good, by the way—these two psychos terrorize this family and well—yeah, have you seen it?"

"No." Gibbs frowned. _Was he taking this seriously at all? _

"I know what you're thinking, it's written all over your stoic face." Tony smiled. "Anyway, just from your reaction to the first four words of my question I can tell you're not into movies or T.V., which is a shame, 'cause I'm a huge fan of both. So, you're either into reading or some recreational hobby—unless you're a workaholic, but even then, you must have _some _free time, and besides sleep, eat, and shit, you have to have something to amuse yourself with so—"

"A boat." Gibbs admitted. "I'm building a boat."

Tony stopped his yammering long enough to look genuinely interested. "No shit?"

Gibbs only nodded.

"Where are you build—" before Tony could finish, Gibbs interrupted.

"My turn; what you said in the limo and then again at breakfast, elaborate."

Tony shrugged. "That's mostly classified."

Gibbs understood well enough not to pry, despite his peaking curiosity. "Your turn."

"Where are you building that boat of yours? Are you dating some ridiculously rich older broad who lets you build boats in like, her private lake on the weekends? You could pull it off, I think. You're handsome in that rugged, ex-military kind of way." Tony rambled, getting carried away with his own imagination.

Gibbs scoffed, trying to suppress a smirk. "In my basement, and no, I'm not."

"Whoa, basement?" Tony took another bite of his omelet. "I really hope you have some brilliant plan to get it out once you've built the boat. Actually, I saw this movie once, 1997, Tim An—"

"Moving on," Gibbs directed the agent back to focus. "You asked two questions, you forfeit a turn. My turn. Where'd you grow up?"

Tony looked thoughtful for a moment. "Just about everywhere, I guess."

"Gotta' be a little more specific than that. Give me _something_." Gibbs urged.

The younger man sighed. "Japan, then." he decided. "I spent a few years there when I was a kid."

Gibbs smirked. "What do you mean_ 'was'_?"

Tony grinned and shoved the older man lightly. "Original, Gibbs. 'Cause I've never heard _that _one before."

Gibbs conceded. "Okay, okay. Next question then."

"Shoot."

"How long have you been with the CIA?" Gibbs asked.

"Two years." Tony replied.

"You're really 19, huh?" Gibbs deadpanned. Tony was a _baby_.

"Yes, and that counts as one of your questions." Tony smiled. "My turn. Ever been married?"

Gibbs grinned sourly. "Thrice divorced."

Tony scoffed. "Christ Gibbs! Details?"

"Ex wife number one is classified information. Ex wife number two, Dianne, cleaned out my bank account, and ex wife number three, Stephanie, was introduced to me by a very old friend. That counted as three questions, by the way."

Tony booed. "Unfair Gibbs."

"Nobody said life was fair." Gibbs countered. "My turn. How are you feeling?"

Tony startled. "Fine. Why?" He tilted his head.

"You looked like hell yesterday. And from what I've heard, you haven't eaten anything in how long?"

"I was on an op for the last month-I'm not allowed to discuss the details though-Penny would have my head."

"You seem close to your director." Gibbs noted.

Tony shrugged. "She liked me enough to give me a job. Anyway, I'm pretty sure it's my turn. When did you join NCIS?"

"Before the 'C' in NCIS came to be."

Tony grinned. "Man, you're ancient."

Gibbs reached over the couch and head slapped the younger man. "And you're barely out of your diapers." he rebutted.

Tony gaped. "Did you just? You did. You definitely did. Ouch." he rubbed the back of his head. "Jerk." he muttered, his words not matching the grin on his face.

"Hey, it's almost three, let me take you out for lunch." Gibbs patted the kids' shoulder and got up from the couch.

"Ooh, trying to buy my love with food? Smart man." Tony joked, as he grabbed his coat on their way out.

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Get in the car."

Their rental car was a beige colored corolla with good mileage and comfortable adjustable seats. Gibbs backed out of their driveway, made a sharp turn, an illegal u-turn and sped down the semi-isolated road.

"Are we chasing a suspect I wasn't aware about?" Tony gripped at the dashboard to keep from flying forward.

"Put your seat belt on, kiddo." was Gibbs only response.

**A/N. I haven't given up on this or the majority of my fics for that matter, I just have absolutely zero time to sit down and write anymore. Life has her sharp talons in me and refuses to let go. By September though, hopefully, things should be a lot more stable than they have been and I will have a huge hunk of time during Mondays and Wednesdays to write to my heart's content! I really have missed this. To everyone still following, thank you very much, I'll try to update with less irregularity. **


End file.
